


Destruction is Coming; He is the Gateway

by blackfin



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Memory Loss, Modern Era, Mystery, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-12 00:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15983699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackfin/pseuds/blackfin
Summary: After collapsing and losing all memory of himself, his past, family and friends, Robin begins experiencing terrifying visions of an apocalyptic event that will spread chaos, darkness and death all across the world. In his lost memories lies the key to preventing the catastrophe, or to bring in a new era of suffocating cruelty.Multiple keys, multiple doors, all leading to the same two conclusions. Forces beyond the stretch of the imagination pressing hard against the fabric of reality, tearing it slowly, rip by rip until their miasma starts pouring through. Six red eyes hang over the immense swath of destruction, relishing in the screams of despair.The end is coming, it has already been set on course but the determination of one man to save his family, his friends can prove to be one hell of a roadblock.





	1. Wake Up!

**Author's Note:**

> ayyy, first awakening fic and of course, it's a multi-chaptered one   
> i've had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to give it a go   
> no idea how often i'll be updating this but will do my best!   
> also posted on my tumblr, blackfen   
> thanks! <3 <3 <3

Someone was calling him. 

No…someone was…screaming for him. Their voice garbled and near incoherent, high pitched and screeching but somehow, he still knew that they were crying out his name. 

Panic coursed through his veins. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. Darkness, heavy with ash and burning with caustic fumes that turned his throat into a wasteland, pressed down so hard onto his back that he couldn’t raise himself even an inch off the ground. Crawling forward, desperately digging his fingernails into the craggy, rough ground, uncaring that the palms of his hand were being torn to shreds, blood pouring across the grey earth, streaming down his arms in thick currents, he fought to move towards where the voice was coming from. 

They…whoever they were, they sounded so scared. Their voice, shrieking and cracking, slammed against his eardrums, sending reverberations of terror that echoed through his head. They were calling him! They needed him! But no matter how far he managed to pull himself, their voice never seemed to get any closer. They screamed and screamed and soon, he realized it wasn’t just one voice but dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions, all screaming in horror, in agony. 

He was choking. There was blood in his mouth; a vile coppery taste flooding over his tongue. Everything hurt. Every last inch of his body was coated in a mind-breaking agony. His head was throbbing; it felt as though there was something inside of his skull, pushing hard against the confines of bone, angrily trying to break free and burst out into the world. It felt like at any moment the top of his head might split open, and the scourge from the deepest levels of hell would come pouring out. Panting hard, spittle and blood expelled from between his lips with every rough exhale, he kept pushing his body forward, dragging himself along the broken ground. 

There was a light in the distance. A sickly, swirling, nauseating purple light that shone through the layer of ash. Shakily raising his head, mouth falling open as he stared, aghast and horrified as the light steadily grew brighter and brighter, the voices were suddenly silenced, leaving behind a dreadful quiet that made his ears ring. The light grew ever brighter, swallowing up, engulfing everything. Unable to look away, unable to move, frozen on the ash and blood soiled ground, he watched, tears rolling in streams down his face, every wheezy breath he pulled in sending a spike of pain through his lungs, bile rising steadily in his throat, as a shape appeared in the light, slithering and squirming in a way that made him want to gouge out his own eyes. 

‘Wake up.’ A voice whispered in his mind, so quietly at first that he almost didn’t hear it. 

‘Wake up.’ The voice whispered again, more insistently this time. In the distance, the shape continued to move and he came to the sickening realization that it was moving towards him. 

‘Wake up!’ The voice, much louder now, echoing out from the inner regions of his mind, from somewhere deep beyond his subconscious, urged. Closer, it was coming closer, he could hear it breathing, each exhale sounding like a jet engine starting up but still couldn’t see much beyond its terrifying shape. It was coming. It was coming for him. It wanted…

Destruction. Ruin. To take the entire world between its sharp teeth and obliterate it. 

A huge guttural, otherworldly roar, so loud that he felt as though his head was going to explode from the force of it, came from the beast, and inside his head, the voice shrieked, ‘WAKE UP NOW!’


	2. Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day, a first for me  
> also posted on my tumblr, blackfen   
> thanks! <333

Eyes flying open, he sucked in a deep, wheezing breath, followed immediately by a coughing fit. Rolling over onto his side, one hand clamped over his mouth as his lungs seized, he waited for it to subside, panting and gasping from the unexpected exertion before slowly lifting his head. Well, he hadn’t really known what he was expecting but being in what was obviously a hospital room hadn’t been on his immediate list of places he might be. Woozily sitting up, a weird thudding pain in the back of his head, he quietly surveyed his surroundings. Yeah, definitely a hospital room, though he’d hesitate to say he was in an E.R. Rather, the room looked private, like somewhere someone recovering from a treated injury or suffering from a long term illness might go. 

Well, that explained where he was. Bigger question was why was he here, wasn’t it? Glancing down at himself, he found he was dressed in a pretty standard hospital gown – nothing fancy – and that there was an IV attached to his right arm. The tube was attached to a baggy of clear liquids; probably just stuff keeping him hydrated. Next, he wiggled his fingers and toes, then waggled his arms and legs. Everything was working fine so it didn’t seem like he was injured. Okay, so that pretty much answered nothing at all. In fact, he had more questions now than he did answers. If he obviously wasn’t hurt then why was he in a hospital? 

Figuring a nurse or doctor might have an answer for him, he searched around for a call button, found it on the wall behind his bed and gave it a push. Not really sure how long he would have to wait, he started to settle back into the bed when, from somewhere beyond the closed door, came thundering footsteps. A moment later, the door flew open, revealing a nurse dressed in rather adorable scrubs with kittens on it. They made eye contact, he offered a small, awkward wave and opened his mouth to say some kind of greeting but was cut off when she rushed forward, a huge smile spreading across her round face, taking one of his hands into both of her own. Her palms were a little dry but the warm sensation of her skin brushing against his was comforting. 

“You’re awake!” She declared happily, “How’re you feeling?” 

“Dizzy.” He answered honestly, his voice startling rough and scratchy. It felt weird to speak, almost as though his throat and tongue had become unaccustomed to the movement that speech required. 

“I’d imagine!” She laughed, pulling a pen light out of one of her pockets. She briefly shined it in his eyes, seemed pleased with the results then slide the stethoscope off from around her neck, gave his lungs and heart a listen to, checked his vitals then tucked everything away and said, “Okay, good, good, good, everything looks good. I’m going to go call Dr. Braun. She’ll give you a full check-up, make sure that nothing is wrong. Oh, and your husband! I need to call your husband!” 

He blinked, then asked quietly, face screwed up in confusion, “Husband?” 

“Yes, yes, your-“ The nurse suddenly froze, the smiling slowly fading away from her face. She studied him for a moment then asked, “Sir, can you tell me what your name is?” 

“Sure, it’s-“ He stopped, the words falling flat from his mouth. What…what was his name? Frantically searching every nook and cranny of his mind, he tried to remember what he was called. Surely…surely he must have a name? He couldn’t have gone through life without some kind of moniker that identified him but, try as hard as he might, he couldn’t remember what his name was. In fact…he was rather alarmed to discover that he didn’t really much of anything. Well, maybe that was over-exaggerating. There were a lot of things he could remember. Two plus two equals four, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, a group of fish is called a school; lots of things but none of them especially useful to figuring out who the fuck he is. 

“Sir?” The nurse spoke up softly, “Do you-“

“I don’t know.” He quietly cut her off, “I don’t know my name.” 

“Do you remember your husband?”

Shit, he was married? He had a husband? Frantically searching his mind once more, looking for even the slightest inkling of a memory of who he was married to, he came up with an alarming amount of nothing. He was actually married to someone, and he couldn’t remember him at all. Swallowing hard against the lump rising in his throat, he slowly shook his head, “No.” 

“Okay.” The nurse nodded, “Alright, I’m going to get Dr. Braun. Your husband went to go get some coffee. He’ll be back in just a few minutes. I’ll-“ she paused, frowning deeply then quietly continued, “I’ll let him know what’s happened. Wait here.” 

“Not like there’s anywhere for me to go.” He mumbled then, before the nurse could disappear, he called after her, “What is my name?” 

“Robin.” She answered, “Your name is Robin Shepherd.” 

“Robin.” He softly repeated, wishing that hearing his name would bring about some recognition. It didn’t. He might as well be saying the name of someone he had never met before. Staring blankly down at his hands, he concentrated with all of his mind, desperate searching for anything, the tiniest hint of who he was. There was nothing. Just a big void that held facts, ratios and information about the stupidest of things but of himself? Of the people he had probably called family, friends before all this? Gone, vanished, poof, leaving behind a giant hole that was terrifying to behold. Letting his eyes fall closed, he sighed heavily. Question whirled in a tornado of confusion and barely restrained panic inside his mind. 

Who was he? Who were his parents? Did he have any siblings? What about pets, did he have any pets? Was he a dog person or a cat person? Maybe both, maybe neither? Did his family know where he was? Did they know what had happened to him? What was their reaction? Did he have friends? How many? Were they all close or were most of them just acquaintances? What was his career? Did he enjoy it? Was he employed at all? What had been his dream job when he was younger? Did he even have a dream job? Did he finish high school? Had he gone to college? What did he study? Had he known right from the getgo what he wanted to do with his life or had it taken years to figure out? Who…who the heck was he? Robin, Robin, his name was Robin Shepherd but who on earth was Robin Shepherd? Him, obviously but who was he? 

Thinking about it started to make the pain thudding in the back of his head even worse. Ignoring it, figuring that if it got too bad, he could just ask the nurse for some ibuprofen or something, Robin kept focusing, probing deeper and deeper into his mind, looking for everything, the slightest hint, the littlest clue but all he came up with was a weird shade of purple that made his stomach lurch sickeningly. Despite the adverse reaction, Robin kept the hue in his mind’s eye for several moments, blatantly ignoring how his stomach was practically rolling around in discomfort. What…what the fuck was this? It was just a color so why did it fill him with such dread? Why was he close to vomiting by just looking at it? Screwing up his face, concentrating so hard that he could feel his pulse in his temple, he tried to connect it back to something, tried to explain it but all he ended up with was a screaming headache. 

Blowing out a long, slow breath, Robin opened his eyes, flinching when that small movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his head. Resisting the urge to shake his head to clear it, knowing that would make his headache even worse, he let out another sigh, slumped further down into the bed and just let his mind go blank. On the opposite wall was a clock. His eyes followed the steady clicking of its hand as it moved across the face. It was ten minutes to seven. Considering the amount of light coming in through the windows to his right, he was assuming it was seven in the morning. He wanted some coffee – strong coffee, with three handfuls of sugars. Would the nurse even let him have coffee? Did patients get to have coffee? He would have to ask when she came back. 

The moment that thought crossed his mind, the door squeaked open once more, much slower this time, though. Turning his head, he watched quietly as, instead of the nurse, a man who probably didn’t work at the hospital carefully entered the room. The moment their eyes met, Robin knew. This was his husband, the man he was married to, and goddamn, had he managed to land himself one hell of a looker. Tall; broad shouldered with just the right amount of muscle; short, dark hair that was perfectly mussed; navy blue eyes that gazed out at the world with a natural intelligence, curiosity and gentleness; ten out of ten, Robin could definitely understand why he would fall for this man. Absolutely beautiful. Sadly, he still had no idea who this was, beyond being (probably) his husband. Offering a faint smile, sincerely hoping that it wouldn’t give him any hope that he did remember, Robin lifted one hand in greeting and said, “Hello.” 

“Hey there.” The man said softly, quietly shutting the door behind him with his foot. In his hands were two cups of coffee, and Robin hoped that one of them was for him. Pausing, looking uncertain, the man asked, “Do you know who I am?” 

Robin gazed at him silently for a moment then slowly shook his head, his heart twisting in agony inside his chest at the look that passed over the man’s face. Grief, anguish, like someone had just told him his mother died. Swallowing against the lump rising in his throat, Robin shakily said, “The nurse said…you’re my husband, right?” 

“Yeah.” His husband smiled – a small, weak one but still a smile nonetheless – then walked over to the bedside. Pulling over a nearby stool, he plopped down, set the two cups of coffee onto the bedside table and clasped his large hands together between his knees, “My name is Chrom Shepherd. I’m your husband. We’ve been married for six years.” 

Six…years. He’d been married to this man, this complete stranger, for six years. Probably spent a good amount of time before that being his friend, then his boyfriend, then his fiancé before finally becoming his husband, and there was nothing…no recollection of any of those precious memories inside his mind. Tears burned in the corners of his eyes. Sucking in a trembling breath, he tried to say something, found his voice simply not there, and fell silent, his gaze drifting down to his hands, which lay clenched in his lap. How much…how much had he lost? Just how much of his life was completely gone? 

“What happened?” Robin asked softly, finally finding his voice, “To me, what happened?” 

“Couple of weeks ago, you collapsed. Your students-“

“Students?” Robin interrupted, “I’m a teacher?” 

“Yeah, you teach Math at the local uni. Before that, you taught high school. That’s where we met, the high school, I mean. Lucina, our, uh…our daughter, had you as her teacher senior year.”

“We have a daughter?” Robin breathed, the tears coming on in full force now, his throat practically swollen shut from the grief of hearing that name and no face, no memory surfacing. 

“Yeah, step-daughter for you, since she’s from my previous marriage. Here, lemme, just-“ Chrom dug around in his pocket for a moment, produced an old, worn leather wallet and filled it open before holding it out for Robin to see. In one of the folds was a picture of a young woman who was definitely her father’s child. In it, she was plopped in a beach chair, looking over her shoulder at whoever was taking the photo. The look on her face seemed to indicate she was not pleased with having her picture taken. Bright, big blue eyes that held that same wisdom, that same kindness stared up at him, though there was a sternness, a maturity to her expression that seemed far beyond her years. Just like her Father, she was beautiful…and a complete stranger. 

Chrom searched his face for a moment as Robin stared down at the photo, memorizing the soft lines of her face, the downward curve of her frowning mouth, the long flow of dark hair spilling over her sunburnt shoulders, then quietly asked, “Anything?” 

Robin anxiously licked his lips, shaking his head slowly, “No…I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Chrom responded reassuringly, though Robin could hear a stressed note in his voice. Pushing his wallet back into his pocket, he continued, “Your students said that you seemed fine for the first half of class then you just kind of froze, your expression went completely blank then you just…crumpled to the floor. Once you collapsed, they couldn’t wake you up. I don’t know what they tried to get you to wake up, but it probably went beyond just slapping you. Another professor called me first, then called 911 when I asked them too, you were rushed to a hospital where they performed all kinds of exams on you.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Chrom sighed, “They found nothing. Far as anyone could tell, there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. Nothing going on with your brain or heart or anything. They checked everything they could think of. And it all came back negative. All anyone could say was that you were in a coma. Other than that, you were pretty much a medical mystery.” 

“…that’s…that’s it?” Robin asked, his voice warbling and uneven, “No head injury? I didn’t whack it on my way down?” 

“No,” Chrom replied, shaking his head, “you didn’t hit anything and one of your students caught you before you could hit the floor. There wasn’t any evidence that you suffered any kind of damage to any part of your brain. You didn’t have a seizure, blood clot, internal bleeding, hormone imbalance, nothing.”

Robin stared at him blankly for several moments before flatly saying, weirdly calm despite being incredibly stressed out, “Well, that’s not very helpful.” 

Chrom laughed softly, the small smile that appeared on his handsome face making Robin feel a little bit less like he didn’t have a million ton weight pressing down directly against the center of his chest, “Yeah, I agree with you on that. We, uh, me and Lissa-uh, um, Dr. Braun, we were just talking about specialists we could contact about your condition when you woke up.” 

“Different specialists needed now.” Robin muttered. This…none of this told him anything. There was not an iota of helpful information in that entire explanation. If anything, he just felt even more confused. He collapsed out of nowhere, lost very specific parts of his memory, pertaining to his very identity, who he was, but there was absolutely no indication what had caused such a weird phenomenon? He wasn’t exactly a doctor, not anywhere close but he was pretty damn sure that, normally, when people lost their memories, they lost the entire deal. There was nothing, just a great big empty void. He was talking, he knew the words he was hearing, knew the ones he was saying, there were complex math problems in there that he knew – couldn’t remember learning them but knew ‘em, nonetheless. 

His head was full of information that was absolutely useless. What he needed, what he wanted, was nowhere to be found. It was…terrifying, Robin realized with a jolt. He was terrified. It felt like a bucket of ice had been dropped into his stomach. His heart was racing, slamming hard against the confines of his ribs. Cold sweat beaded across his forehead. Sucking in a deep breath, not wanting to fly into full blown panic mode, Robin did the only thing he could think of. 

“Can I hold your hand?” He asked, his voice audibly trembling. 

Chrom looked startled for a moment then nodded, “Yeah, yeah, of course!”

Reaching out, he took one of Robin’s shaking hands into his own, strong, warm fingers closing around it and squeezing reassuringly. The hand was strange, foreign, yet there was a hopeful twang of familiarity in the very back of his mind, hidden down somewhere underneath the haze and fog. Some part of him…knew this warmth, recognized the sensation of the calloused palm rubbing against his own. Robin raised his head when Chrom stood, fiddled with the bars stretching across the side of the bed and got them lowered so he could sit on the side. Scooting a little closer, still giving Robin some space, he hesitantly brushed away a lock of hair away from his sweaty forehead. Leaning into the touch, the racing pace of his heart slowly, Robin sighed slightly as Chrom lightly, gently cupped his cheek. 

“I can’t begin to imagine how scary this must be for you but,” Chrom’s grip on his hand tightened, “I’m right there. We’ll get through this together, okay?” 

Robin nodded stiffly, the tears he’d been struggling to hold back finally falling, sliding down his hot cheeks. Two muscular arms encircled him, tugging him close to a warm chest. He stiffened up for just a moment, startled by the sudden action then quickly found himself melting into Chrom’s embrace. Sniffling softly, he buried his face into the curve of Chrom’s shoulder, snaking his arms around his broad midsection, fingers curling into the loose fabric of his shirt. A large hand landed on the back of his head, where it began to lovingly stroke his hair. 

“I’ve got you.” Chrom whispered, warm breath puffing against Robin’s ear, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s gonna be okay.” 

The state of being okay felt impossible to reach at that moment. Reaching the moon by jumping really high seemed more plausible but as Chrom’s warmth sunk into his skin, slowly driving away the cold grip terror had on him; as his scent surrounded him, and every breath he took in was saturated with the smell of laundry detergent, coffee and sweat, he did, at least, start feeling better. Whether that was because he did truly remember Chrom in some far off, hidden regions of his mind or simply because he was being shown kindness, physical affection, warmth, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to try to figure it out right then either. 

He was warm, he felt safe, and the pain that had steadily been building up in the back of his head was finally beginning to fade away. He didn’t want to focus on anything else, other than the man in front of him. Everything…everything else…all the complications, confusion, all of it, would have to wait.


	3. Take Me Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh, it's been a very long while   
> sorry 'bout that OTL   
> anyway! update!   
> also posted on my tumblr, blackfen   
> thank ya!

Chrom introduced Dr. Braun as his younger sister but he couldn’t see any similarities between them. Lissa, as she insisted she call him, he was her brother-in-law, after all, even if he couldn’t remember her, was much smaller and more petite, blonde with wide grey eyes, and bounced around the room as though she’d just ingested a handful of caffeine pills. While Chrom watched on calmly, seemingly used to her energy, Lissa thoroughly examined him, asked all sorts of questions about how he felt before dragging over a stool and plopping down with a huff. 

“Well,” she started, writing furiously on the clipboard she dropped onto Robin’s bed, “we’re out of options here. We just don’t have the means to treat whatever it is,” she waved on hand vaguely at Robin’s head, “that’s afflicting you. Heck, we don’t even have the means to diagnose it. Way beyond my pay grade. Normally, I’d refer you to a specialist but you’re a very special case so lemme do the calling around and talking. I’ll get you into the offices of whoever you need to see to figure this out.” 

Robin quietly regarded her for a moment then asked, “And if no one can figure it out?” 

To his surprise, Lissa shrugged, “Then we never figure it out. Sometimes, these kinds of mysteries don’t get solved. One thing, though.” 

She raised her head, settling a sympathetic gaze on him, “One thing you’re going to want to come to terms with is that the likelihood of you getting your memories back is next to zero. With memory loss this extensive and this bizarrely specific – I probably don’t need to tell you that this kind of amnesia doesn’t happen…or do I need to tell you? Did you know that?” 

Robin nodded stiffly, “I knew that. There’s…there’s no chance?”

Lissa waggled her hands noncommittally, “Next to no chance. When it comes to something this weird, who’s to say? You’ve got Hollywood amnesia, anything could happen.” 

“Hollywood amnesia?” 

“Yeah, you’ve got the kind of amnesia you only see in like movies, books, games, that kind of thing. Super specific, pertaining only to who you are, your past, that kind of thing. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen in reality. As you know so maybe you get your memories back but-“

“I probably won’t.” Robin flatly finished her sentence. 

Lissa offered a small, sorrowful smile, “Who’s to say? Right now, the main focus is to make sure that nothing is wrong. You suddenly collapsing and losing your memories doesn’t exactly happen for no reason. We just can’t figure out what made it happen. That’s where the specialists come in.”

“What happens now, though?” Chrom asked quietly, tightly squeezing Robin’s hand. 

“Now.” Lissa set her pen down, knit her fingers together and rested her hands on top of the clipboard, “Robin goes home. We’ve checked him over, nothing seems wrong so him staying here, in this sterile environment is a not a good idea, Chrom. Right now, he should be in a comfortable, peaceful environment where there’s a lot of interaction, a lot of learning and all that jazz going on. Worse thing for him is to stagnate.” 

Chrom sucked in a deep breath through his nose then turned to look at Robin, “What do you think?” 

“Home.” Robin said without hesitation. Between being stuck here, encased, surrounded by the fact that he was a stranger to himself, unable to do anything about it other than repeatedly give himself headaches by trying too hard to remember or being a place he once considered home, where every item had his memories interwoven into them, the latter was so much more appealing. Now that the option had been made apparent to him, he realized he wanted nothing more than to be out of this hospital. The quiet, the stillness, the goddamn fucking stench of it – he wanted out. 

“I want to go home.” Robin continued firmly, curling his free hand into a fist, turning his head slightly to look up at Chrom, who visibly jolted a little when their eyes met, “Please?” 

“Of course.” Chrom replied, “You don’t need to ask me if you can. If that’s what you want to do, we will. Lissa, do we need to sign any paperwork?”

“Discharge papers.” She replied quickly, then tilted her head back, rolling her eyes up as she thought, “Maybe something else, I don’t remember. I’ll find out.” Jumping to her feet, she picked up the clipboard, flashed a vibrant smile then said, “Hang tight, I’ll get everything sorted.”

With that, she flounced out the room, shutting the door tightly behind her. 

“What will you do if I don’t ever remember?” Robin asked, staring down at his hands. 

“Work hard so you’ll fall in love with me again.” Chrom replied easily, resting his chin in the curve of his other hand. 

Robin sputtered loudly, heat flooding into his cheeks. Jerking his head up, he gawked openly at Chrom for a moment, only to look away hurriedly when Chrom looked over at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a small smile on his handsome face. Well, hadn’t been expecting that response. Clearing his throat, scrubbing vigorously at his face, he coughed, “I’ll…uh, look forward to it?” 

Chrom burst out laughing, and Robin flushed with even more heat. Covering his face with his hand, he moaned, “Forget I said that.”

“Glad to see that, even after losing your memories, you haven’t lost your adorable awkwardness.” 

“Am I acting like I normally do?” Robin asked, slowly lowering his hand, momentarily forgetting his embarrassment. 

“Far as I can tell.” Chrom rubbed the back of his neck, “Your mannerisms and reactions are in line in what I’d expect. If there are any differences, we won’t know until we can expose you to different situations.” 

“And if I am different?” 

Chrom shrugged nonchalantly, “Then you are.”

“Just like that?” 

“Yes, just like that. I can’t say anything other than that because I don’t know what’s going to happen from here on out but no matter what, even if you are different,” Chrom reached up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, “it won’t change much.” 

It took a lot of effort to not make some kind of negative comment about how he says that now, but what happened when he realized just how much of a distance there was between them, how they really were strangers who knew really nothing about one another, what then? Would they stay together out of convenience? Would they drift apart? This man was essentially a stranger but the thought of them being separated, of Chrom potentially discovering that the man he loved was no longer around, that who stood before him was an impersonator, a fake hiding behind a familiar face, and leaving him behind, unable to be near him out of grief of losing someone so important to him, sent a spear of cold terror straight through the center of his chest. 

Before he had too long to think about such a terrifying prospect, the door burst open and Lissa came bouncing back in. In one hand was a different colored clipboard, on top of which was a fairly generous stack of papers. Strolling over to the bed, she handed the clipboard, along with a pen, to Robin, “You can read through everything if you like but it’s basically just you agreeing to being released and you understand all that.” 

Robin glanced down at the paperwork then handed it over to Chrom, who took it without question and began to flip through it. Lissa huffed good-naturedly, set her hands on her hips and waited with an air of impatience, tapping one foot rapidly as Chrom, upon finishing up reading through everything, gave the clipboard back to Robin with a nod. He quickly signed everything, the flow of his handwriting strange and sloppy. 

“Thank you!” Lissa said, taking the clipboard from him, “With that, you’re free to go. Does he have any clothes to wear, Chrom?” 

“I’m going to text Freddie and ask him to bring him something to wear.” Chrom responded. 

Lissa nodded, “Sounds good. Say hi to Fredbear for me.” 

“Tell him yourself.” Chrom responded playfully. 

“I’ve got to be in surgery in like,” Lissa checked the clunky watch on her wrist, “five minutes ago. Whoops! Bye! I’ll talk to you too, later. Robin, if you feel even the slightest bit sick, don’t hesitate to let me know!” 

With that, she flew back out the room, not bothering to close the door this time. 

“Are you sure you two are related?” Robin asked, quirking one eyebrow. 

“She’s got a lot of Mom in her.” Chrom said with a laugh, “I’ve got Mom’s sense of humor but I’m more like Dad.” 

Robin nodded. Resting back against the pillow, he asked, “Who’s Freddie?” 

“Lissa’s husband. We’ve been friends since college so a good, long while. When he gets here, though, I’d recommend calling him Frederick.”

“Why?” 

“We call him Freddie behind his back but not to his face. He doesn’t like that nickname.” Chrom explained with a grin. 

He nodded again, “Noted. Are me and him friends?”

“Yeah, he’s fond of you. Wasn’t at first but then again, Freddie isn’t fond of anyone when he first meets them. It takes him a while to warm up to people.” 

“So I can expect a pretty chilly reception, then?” 

Chrom shrugged, “Honestly? I have no idea how he’s going to react. Just to be safe, I would say yes. Expect him not to be overly friendly.” 

-

Freddie wasn’t at all what he imagined. When Chrom mentioned he was Lissa’s husband, he immediately began to expect someone small, similarly bubbly, bright eyed and bushy tailed so when a tall, muscular man with a sharp, regal face that wore what seemed to be a constant cautious, distant expression, dressed in a pale pink polo shirt and beige slacks walked in, Robin thought he must be in the wrong room at first and was going to nod politely before taking off but nope, this stranger looked straight at him and said in a low, courteous tone, “Good morning, Robin. How are you feeling?” 

“Fine,” Robin said, fidgeting a little underneath his scrutinizing stare, “you’re Frederick, right?”

“That’s right.” Frederick nodded, walking further into the room. He was holding a small duffle bag, which he set down on the end of the bed, glanced about then asked “Where’s Chrom?” 

“He went to get the car. Lissa doesn’t want me walking all the way down to the car park. Thank you for bringing me some clothes.” Robin pushed back the covers, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and carefully standing up. Even the slow, considerate movements, dizziness still swamped him. Swaying, he would have taken a nose dive straight down to the floor if Frederick hadn’t reacted quickly, swooping forward to catch him just as his legs were giving out. Gripping tightly onto the firm, muscular arm around his chest, Robin sucked in a deep breath through the gaps in his teeth, cold sweat popping up on his forehead and willed the dizziness away. Did not need this right now, really did not need this right now. 

“Perhaps you should get back in bed.” Frederick said softly, actually picking him up off the floor, the tips of his toes brushing against the cold linoleum, as though he intended to drop him back on top of the mattress.

“No.” Robin said firmly, “I’m going home. Put me down, now.”

Frederick sighed, “You need to stay here if you’re still ill.” 

“Put. Me. Down.” Robin responded tersely, irritated at Frederick and his own body for being stupid. 

“Good to see you didn’t lose your stubbornness.” Frederick commented dryly but he set him back down nonetheless, held onto him for a few more moments before moving away, leaving him to stand on his own. 

He was still a little dizzy but as his body accustomed himself to standing upright, the vertigo steadily began to wear off. Bracing one hand on the wall, impatiently waiting for it to stop entirely, desperately hoping that Chrom wouldn’t return while he was struggling, Robin gritted his teeth, glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Frederick watching him with mostly an expression of passiveness, though there was noticeable note of concern in his somber eyes. 

“I’m okay.” Robin said, both to convince Frederick and himself. 

Frederick sighed, “If you say so.” 

Dragging the duffle bag closer, he unzipped it, pulled out an assortment of clothing and spread them out on the bed, “I’ll wait outside while you get dressed. If you need help, don’t hesitate to call me. I will come in if I hear you struggling.” He looked up, settled a stern eye on Robin and continued, “Please try not to fall. I’d rather you not knock yourself into another coma.” 

Ears tingling with indignant heat, Robin swallowed down a bitter retort. Frederick had been nothing but polite towards him since he entered the room, and here he was, acting all snippy. He even went out of his way to bring him clothes, too. Brushing a hand through his hair, which could seriously do with a wash, Robin sighed, reached down to snag the shirt Frederick brought and said, “Sorry for snapping at you. Thank you for the clothes. I appreciate it, and I’ll be careful.”

Frederick lightly rolled his shoulders, “Don’t worry yourself about that. I can’t imagine this is easy.” He paused for a moment, regarding Robin with an unreadable gaze then his shoulders visibly relaxed, and he said in a much gentler tone, “I am glad that you’re awake. We were scared that we might’ve lost you.” 

The words came out before he could stop them, “Well, you kind of have.” 

Flinching, immediately regretting have said something so callous and cruel, Robin clenched his eyes shut, frowned deeply and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I really shouldn’t have said that.” 

“It’s alright.” Frederick quietly reassured him, “Though, I would have to disagree. I don’t think our Robin is gone at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Frederick clasped his hands behind his back, “If I were never told that you lost your memories, if Lissa were have kept me in the dark, and this was the first time we talked since you collapsed, I don’t believe I would realize anything was different about you.” 

Robin laughed softly, grabbing the shirt Frederick brought him and holding it up to find it to be a loose fitting v-neck. It looked a little too big for him but any shirt was better than no shirt, “Chrom said something similar. Guess I should take some comfort in the fact that I-“ 

The words died in his throat when he raised his head to look at Frederick once more, only to find him no longer there and the hospital room, the once pristinely clean, brightly lit room was in an intense state of decay. One moment, it was obvious that this was somewhere that underwent constant upkeep then, in one single instant, he blinked, glanced away for just a moment, it looked as though a nuclear bomb had gone off somewhere nearby. The walls were crumbling, covered in dust, dirt and crime. Everywhere he looked was a scene of decomposition. An intense odor of rot slammed into him, making him gag. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he frantically looked around with wide, watering eyes.

What…what the hell was this?! Panic thrummed from somewhere deep inside his chest, spreading out throughout the rest of his body in quaking tremors. Thoughts raced through his mind, all jumbling together into an incoherent cacophony. His heart slammed hard against the confines of his ribs. Gripping the front of his hospital robe with one shaky, sweaty hand, Robin desperately tried to think of some kind of explanation for this bizarre…whatever this was, only to have any explanation he could have come up with fade away into a loud, insistent buzz that filled up his ears, filled up the world when he glanced over to where the window was or, at least, used to be. 

What was there now was a massive hole, which looked a clear, unobstructed view of the absolute destruction that spread out below. Buildings lay in ruin. Cars sat abandoned, some over turned, others smashed against others, doors flung open. Bodies…there were bodies…lying on the road, slumped over in the cars. All of them were…burned, their corpses nothing more than blackened husks. Bile rose up in his throat. Dizziness swamped him. Swaying, somehow managing to remain upright, his gaze unwilling followed the streaks and stains of blood. Heavy pillars of smoke sailed up into the sickening swirl of purple haze that hung over the ruins. Mouth hanging open, all the air rushing out of his lungs in a single whistling exhale, Robin slowly walked forward, not wanting to see more but unable to stop himself. Each step kicked up a heavy layer of dust…no, ash, he realized with a dull thump. Ash, it was ash, the city below him…it was burning. This wasn’t decay, it was destruction. Recent, the fires had just started burning, something…something had…Robin’s mind stuttered. Shrieking, unbearable pain radiated out from somewhere deep inside his skull. 

Even as the pain got worse, he couldn’t look away, couldn’t tear his eyes away. Screaming…he could hear screaming from somewhere far in the distance. So many voices, all raised into an incoherent high pitched babble of terror that could have pierced the sound barrier. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His chest hitched in hard, gagging sobs. Him, they were screaming for him, they were calling for him, they needed him! Robin stumbled forward, only to come to a shuddering halt when a light pierced through the violet haze. It grew brighter, brighter, brighter, swallowing up everything. Terror seized his heart, squeezing it so tightly that it could hardly beat. A scream pressed against the back of his throat but his mouth, his lips, his tongue were too numb to make any sound. 

‘Robin.’ A voice whispered somewhere in the distance, fear and determination mingling together in their voice. 

Something moved in the distance. Slithering, squirming, spreading out throughout the sky, so big, so massive that if the sun were visible, it would have completely blocked it out. He would have vomited if his esophagus wasn’t frozen in horror. Warmth flooded his crotch, spilling down his legs. His bowels quivered. Pain, all he could feel was pain. His head was splitting in half. His brain was rotting inside his skull. Robin found his hands on his face, the heavy wetness coating his cheeks jerking him to awareness just moments before he started clawing at his own eyes. 

Death. 

He was looking at death, ruin, destruction, agony, despair. The end of everything filled up the sky. It was coming. 

The gate…the gate was…

“Robin!” 

Two powerful hands grabbed his shoulders. With a grating, wheezing gasp, Robin jerked, a horrible jolt of cold racing through his body. He blinked and suddenly, he was standing in the clean, well kept, brightly lit hospital room again. Sunlight was pouring in through the window. He could hear people chattering easily outside. Frederick stood in front of him, his face a chalky white and drawn into a grimace of restrained fear. He stared up at him, wide eyed and panting shallowly, for a moment before the nausea slammed into him with enough strength to nearly bring him to his knees. Clamping his hands over his mouth, audibly gagging, he tried to tell Frederick what was about to come but couldn’t get anything out. Thankfully, Frederick caught on remarkably quick. 

Robin found himself lifted off the floor, carried at super sonic speed into the bathroom and dropped in front of the toilet just as the first wave hit. Bending over, gripping the cold sides of the porcelain, all the contents of his stomach, which didn’t amount to much, forcefully ejected itself. His throat burned. Each heave left him gasping, choking, struggling to drag in even the smallest bit of air. Panic fluttered inside his chest. Frederick knelt by his side, gently rubbing his back, whispering quietly all the while his body decided that even though there was nothing more coming out, it’d still be fun to make him dry heave so hard that his body was jolted forward. 

Finally, it tapered off to the point that he felt somewhat, kind of okay with moving away. Slowly, carefully easing back onto his butt, gripping tightly onto Frederick, who moved forward to help him sit down safely, Robin sucked in a shaky gasp of air, dragging a hand across his mouth. He was going to need to get something to drink asap because it tasted like something had crawled into his mouth and died. Pain thudded viciously in the back of his skull. There was a strange white fuzziness around the edges of his vision. He was exhausted to the point that every time he blinked, it was a battle just to force his lids back open. Despite the bathroom being fairly warm, he was freezing. Shivering, he pulled his knees to his chest, squeezing them tightly. 

“Robin.” Frederick said softly. Even though the volume was his voice was barely above a whisper, it still sent a fresh bolt of pain through his head. 

Flinching, Robin raised his head with incredible difficultly and mumbled, “What happened?” 

“You don’t remember?” 

Robin blinked, then slowly started to shake his head, only to stop when that ramped the pain up even further. Something must have happened but he had no recollection of it. Thankfully, whatever had vanished in this memory lapse, it hadn’t seemed to have taken the short while he’d been awake with it. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

“I was going to get dressed.”

“Then?” 

“I was puking. Why? What happened?” 

Frederick blew out a short, hard breath then abruptly got to his feet, causing Robin to jump slightly. Reaching down, he gripped Robin by his elbows and easily pulled him up off the floor. When he immediately began to sway, the whole world lurching dangerous, his stomach threatening to start that nonsense all over again, a muscular arm caught him, once again, by the midsection. There was a moment when Frederick seemed to be deliberating something then he leaned down, gathered Robin’s smaller frame up into his arms and carried him back into the room. 

“I’m going to go get a nurse.” He said as he placed Robin down onto the bed. When Robin opened his mouth to protest, Frederick silenced him with a cold, stern look. Shoving all the clothing back into the duffle bag, he yanked the blanket up over Robin, gently but firmly pushing him down into the bed. “I am not saying you aren’t going home but someone needs to examine you. Now.” 

“What happened?” Robin asked for the third time, already right on the verge of drifting off now that he was safely tucked into bed. 

There came no answer. Frederick instead pulled his cell out of his back pocket, quickly dialed in someone’s number and held the phone to his ear. A beat of silence then whoever he was calling must have picked up because he said, “Get up here. Now.”

A pause, followed by, “Something has happened but he’s fine. No, he needs to sleep. If he’s still awake when you get up, which I doubt, you can talk to him then. Chrom, stop fucking arguing with me and get up here. Now.”

With that, he hung up, shoving the phone back into his pocket. Tugging the blanket up further, he said, “I’ll be right back. Even if you start to feel sick again, don’t get up. Throw up in your bed or on the floor but do not, under any circumstances, get up. Do you understand, Robin?” 

“Yes, Mr. Braun.” Robin replied sleepily, too exhausted to feel irritated at how he was being treated like a child. 

He heard Frederick snort softly then a big, warm hand gently patted the top of his head before slipping away. For the briefest moments, he was overwhelmed by an intense, childish terror. His hand twitched, wanting to lash out and grab Frederick, to stop him from leaving but before the motion could be followed through, he fell into a restless, dreamless sleep.


End file.
